Penny For Your Thoughts?
by GeekaZoid420
Summary: See this is why I don't go to parties. Because crap like this happens. Stiles/OC. Reviews loved!
1. Chapter 1

_Ok, first of all- I want to give an apology. If any of you who are reading this, read (What's the Story) Morning Glory, I just would like to say a MASSIVE sorry! I've had to put the story on hiatus because I've literally just lost inspiration. You followers and supporters of it are phenomenal though... and I love you so much. I will most definitely find inspiration by the time series two comes out- I just literally feel like everything I write for it now isn't good enough._

_Anyway, SORRY ABOUT WHINING ABOUT MY LIFE! I secretly hope that some of you followers are fans of Teen Wolf, because I'm in love with Stiles. And Lydia. And everyone basically. Aside from Alison. Eurgh._

_Heres something that literally popped into my head one day at work, and I dedicate it to my very good friend. You know who you are ;)_

_Please enjoy! (and Review)_

* * *

Penny For Your Thoughts?

Chapter One:

"Too Many Freakin' Closets"

They say that everything happens for a reason. I suppose I've always been a bit of a sceptic, because nothing that's ever happened to me seemed to have a purpose.

That was until- _it_ happened.

Like all great stories, it began with a party.

Wait, no- I'm getting ahead of myself.

Let's begin with Stiles Stilinski.

Stiles Stlinkski was the type of person that would give you the shirt off his back if you were cold (Especially if you were a girl) but still wouldn't hesitate to make a wisecrack about how much of a pussy you were.

The trouble with Stiles, and I've found the trouble in no one but him- is that no matter how annoying he gets, no matter how hard you wanna punch him between the eyes- you just can't hate the guy.

_I hate that_.

I had first met him in Nursery School- back when I still let my Mom dress me.

_Bleurgh._

As I walked anxiously into the class, and sat down at the nearest table- I was joined by a skinny boy, with a shaved head and an upturned nose.

"Hi!" he exclaimed, a little too enthusiastically.

"Oh, hi." I said quietly.

Believe it not, back then- I wasn't exactly the most confident of people.

"I like your dress." He replied, pointing down to the pink frilly number I now realise my Mom had picked out just to take pictures and taunt me throughout my entire adolescence.

"Thanks." I muttered, gazing at him quickly to find something to compliment.

"I like your… moles."

He laughed loudly. "My Mom says they're beauty marks," he said grinning and striking a ridiculous pose, "I guess I must be pretty beautiful, huh?"

I snorted quietly into my hand, turning away the hide my blush- only to realise that his attention had drawn away from me- gazing at another girl who had just entered, the classroom.

She was petite, more petite than I was- with strawberry blonde hair that fell into ringlets against the yellowed flowered dress.

She was beautiful.

Well, I supposed she was the most beautiful thing in the room at least.

It seemed as if Stiles thought so too- as through the entirety of class he didn't take his eyes away from her- a deep blush creeping up his neck when she returned his gaze once.

I think it was round about then that I decided to give up on Stiles Stlinkski.

What? I have very little patience with people.

The next day I opted to sit next to Danielle, whereas Heather- as I recalled, sat next to Stiles.

They became fast friends, and I remembered briefly being jealous- and wondering whether or not it was because she was a pretty and petite with long blonde hair as opposed to my short black bob.

It was Danielle that pulled me out of my reverie.

"Boys have cooties." She whispered quietly.

I looked at her with shock.

"Remember that." She winked.

We've been friends ever since.

* * *

I can't say I really know what happened to him after that, I remember Heather saying something about something sad happening within his family- but I never really recalled the exact details.

I didn't see him again until Middle School.

When you're fourteen years old, and get invited to a party- Well, you're mind starts to wonder.

Do I have to wear a dress? Do I have to wear makeup? Oh my god, do I have to kiss someone?

Before Middle school- It had all been bouncy castles and birthday cake- perhaps a round or two of 'Pin the tail on the Donkey'.

But now, boys liked girls. Girls like boys. We were all doing the 'pairing up' thing- ready for high school, and it scared the _shit _out of me.

It was Heathers fifteenth birthday, and this year, she had decided on a mixed gender party.

I was freaking out a little, because I had never attended one- but I wasn't freaking out as much as Heather- evidently.

"Oh my god! What if it sucks?" She held her head in her hands.

"Can't suck anymore than Andy Jenkins last month." Danielle said, helpfully.

I sniggered slightly when Heather threw her a glare.

"Heather, don't worry. It's gonna be great."

She gave me a small smile, and took a deep breath.

"No, you're right. I'm going crazy over nothing." She stood up and straightened herself out.

"Let's go." She announced, fluffing her hair up.

"That's the spirit." I clapped her on the shoulder as we made our way downstairs.

It was eight pm and I was in the kitchen looking for another can of Red Bull, when Danielle and Heather ambushed me.

"You're going in the closet." Heather smirked evilly.

"Ohh, no!" I protested, making to walk away.

But Danielle was _much _stronger than me, and dragged me backwards- each friend on one arm.

"_Please! _" I whined when the cupboard was in sight. I could see the group on people in the circle amusedly laughing at me as I was pushed into the cupboard, shoving a blindfold in my hand.

Reluctantly, I put it on.

I had kissed boys before, so I wasn't exactly worried about going into the closet- it was just the fact I didn't know whose lips I was kissing.

God, I hoped it wasn't Greenburg.

When the closet door finally did open, it was slowly and almost nervously.

"Come in?" I asked, when the person made no move whatsoever.

"OK." I heard- almost a whisper, and we were thrust into darkness with a creak of the door.

"Come closer." I reached my hands out in front of me, feeling the air.

Hands slowly moved towards me- intertwining fingers with mine.

I was pleased to find that the fingers were long, soft and incredibly warm.

When I got a firm enough grip, I pulled the boy forward.

"Oh-oh god." I heard him groan.

"We haven't even done anything yet!" I snorted.

"I- I know- Sorry, Sorry."

"George! You better be naked when I open this door!" Danielle yelled jokingly outside.

"Wait, George? As in… Montgomery?"

I paused. I hadn't got a good enough look around the circle to see who I was up against.

"You know me?" I asked.

"It's Stiles. Stiles Stilinski?" I asked, as if almost certain I wouldn't have remembered who he was.

I took this opportunity to pull of my blindfold.

Squinting through the darkness I saw that he was considerably taller than me now, I couldn't make out his face properly- but by the way he kept twitching and flailing his arms slightly, I knew with absolute certainty that it was in fact, Stiles Stilinski.

"Two minutes, lovebirds!" Someone shouted.

I grimaced.

"We should kiss now." I said forcibly.

"I- uh, what- we should?" He stumbled.

"Well, they're all expecting us to." My eyes gazed over to the door.

I could hear Stiles swallow hard. I knew then what this was all about.

I was about to be his first kiss.

"Look, it's cool if you don't wanna do this-"

"No- no! God, no- I wanna do this." His breath tickled my hair, "I _need _to do this."

He rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling awkwardly, "I mean, God knows whether I'll even _get _to kiss someone-"

"Stiles, it's okay- I get it." I snorted and then took a deep intake of breath. "OK, then."

I placed my arms over his and leant in ever so slightly.

"C'mon then, I'm not doing all the work." I snickered.

He jerked quickly, "Oh- right, yeah- no, jeez, I don't remember you being this forward in Nursery." He breathed.

I snorted a bit, before I closed the distance between our lingering lips.

I could feel him inhale sharply, probably in shock, and become unresponsive for a moment. Once my lips began to move slowly- his body relaxed and his lips began to move slowly and awkwardly against mine.

"One minute!" Danielle yelled.

It felt much longer than a minute. Not to sound to cliché, or lame- but it seemed as if time was standing still, as if fireworks were exploding in the back of my brain.

Disgusting, right?

He began to gain more and more confidence the longer our lips moved, and brought his long fingers up onto my face, caressing the skin there before moving them into my hair- running his fingers through it, he ran his tongue along my bottom lip, asking for entrance.

_Holy shit, he was a fast learner._

My arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer- whilst his hands travelled from my hair to my waist, gliding his fingers up and down my sides desperately.

"Thirty seconds!"

It was getting more and more intense as the seconds ticked away, neither one of us showing any signs of slowing- both clinging on to each other for dear life.

"Twenty seconds!"

It was then that I remembered something.

"Crap!" I muttered against his mouth.

"What is it?" He said, alarmed.

"My blindfold! Quick!"

"Oh, f-!" he half finished, before scrabbling across the shelves.

We both got down onto our knees and felt around the floor for the blindfold.

"Hey! Here it is!" He said triumphantly, quickly flinging it in my direction, I pulled it on before the door opened.

"Times up losers!" I heard Heather chuckle.

I felt Stiles brush my hand slightly as he proceeded to get yanked out of the closet.

When I heard it close, I whipped the blindfold off my face and let out a deep breath I hadn't even remembered holding.

I recalled his lips grazing along mine, and my mind momentarily went blank.

_Where had he learnt that? When did he get that good?_

Grasping the door handle firmly, I twisted the knob and light assaulted my eyes.

When I finally got my sight back- I saw the group of people yet again, but this time- I got a better look at everyone.

I hadn't seen what Stiles looked like in full blown light, and I was a tiniest bit shocked to see how puberty had kicked in.

He sat on the sofa, his hands clasped to the knees of his long legs. He was tall, and lanky- but he looked pretty much exactly the same as we were when we were six. His hair was still buzzed, and those moles still plagued his face.

Next to him was a shorter boy, with tanned skin and shaggy black hair.

They both seemed incredibly out of place.

Back from my reverie, I almost laughed out loud when I saw that everyone was watching me.

"So?" Danielle waggled her eyebrows. "How was it?"

I briefly gazed at Stiles who was now incredibly fascinated by his lap, his friend nudged him slightly and gave a low chuckle- to which Stiles widened his eyes and gave him a look that seemed to scream, 'Shut up, dude!".

I decided that seeing as everyone was looking at me so expectedly, and seeing as I was completely over the Lydia Martin incident of '98- I opted to tell the truth, the whole truth- and nothing but the truth.

"It was great." I smiled, "Best kiss I've ever had." I saw his eyes flash up from the corner of my eye- but I did not meet his gaze.

Silently smiling instead, I walked back in the direction I'd come, back to my well-deserved Red bull.

* * *

And that was it really.

I mean literally heard nothing from or about him in about two years.

In that time, a lot can happen- but me being me, sadly, it didn't. I'm almost the same person I was when I was fourteen.

Well, back when I was normal. I don't even know what normal is anymore. It certainly isn't me.

OK, so this is where I get back on track.

It was sophomore year, Heather had just turned seventeen, and as predicted- she had decided to throw a rager.

I swear, that girl can't live unless she's throwing a party.

I didn't really know anyone there to be perfectly honest, apart from Danielle, and the host herself.

"George, are you really just gonna sit there all night?" She scolded, hand on her hip.

"Yeah, it's a party!" Heather chimed. "And I'm finally going to lose this stupid thing."

"What thing?" I lay one of my arms on my jeans and took a long swig of beer.

"Virginity." She said, with a proud smile, about to take a dainty sip of this black flavoured liquid someone had given Heather as a birthday present.

"What is that?" I suddenly asked, crinkling my nose.

"I dunno some kinda rum." She responded, and then turned her attention back to the matter at hand. "So, I'm going to lose it tonight."

I couldn't exactly say that Heather and I were crazy 'tight' but I knew her well enough to know that she wasn't joking.

"Virginity? You're gonna screw some random dude tonight?" I raised an eyebrow.

"You make it sound so crude!" She exclaimed. "But, yes."

"You at least got yourself a target of opportunity?" Danielle chimed in.

Heather's face turned towards the door, and smile grew on her face.

"Hold my drink." She beamed, shoving the weird concoction into my hands.

Part of me wishes that in that moment, I never turned around.

If I hadn't, none of this would have happened.

The fact that I did- well, it was detrimental.

"Stiles!"

"Hey! There's the birthday gir-" He was cut off by her lips thrusting themselves upon his.

His hair had grown out since I last clapped eyes on him- but I could tell he was still the weird, twitchy boy with about a billion moles that cluttered up his face.

"So glad you came." She said, once he had pulled away.

"Me too." He all but drooled.

I couldn't help but laugh.

He was still _hopeless._

After she had dragged him off to god knows where, his friend came over to Danielle and I.

"Hey." He said kindly.

I felt like I had seen his face before somewhere, but couldn't exactly place where.

"Hey, wassup?"

Danielle gave him a quick once over, raised her eyebrows at me- and left.

"I- what-" Scott stuttered.

"Yeah, she does that." I said deadpan, taking a sip of Heathers drink. The liquid burned the back of my throat and left a odd taste in my mouth. Despite this- I went in for another sip before looking at him.

It was then that it all clicked. I remembered him from Heathers party- his hair had been much longer and uncared for- whereas now it was shorter, but stylish. I remember him being weedier too.

"You want one?" I said, gesturing to the Red cup.

"That'd be cool." He smiled. "Er- I'm Scott, by the way." He held his hand out.

"Yeah, I recognize you- you play lacrosse right?" I took his hand, "George."

"Yeah, yeah- that's right, I do."

"Well, I'd love to chat with you about it- but I know exactly null about lacrosse." I chuckled, walking over to the drinks table.

"It's fine, seriously- I'm surprised anyone even cares about it anymore." He picked up a bottle of Jack and poured it into his cup, downing the cup in seconds.

I stared at him open mouthed.

"If I'm going to get through tonight- I'm gonna need to be drunk."

I laughed hard.

"My thought's exactly."

I picked up the strange brown bottle with the rest of the liquid inside and decided to finish it off for Heather, seeing as she was otherwise… indisposed.

* * *

After a while, Scott began to talk about Stiles.

"Y'know, I only really came here for my best friend."

I nodded, taking another sip of my drink, "Stiles?"

"You know him?"

I thought back briefly to the cupboard.

"You could say that." I laughed quietly.

"Yeah, he's just wigged out over everything lately, I don't know- I just wanted to do something, y'know?"

"Well, that's a good friend right there." I teased.

I swigged at my drink again.

"What is that?" Scott said- suddenly slightly uncomfortable.

"I dunno- some kind of rum?" I quoted Heathers words, not sure what it was myself. God, I'm such a good role model.

"It stinks." He laughed, pinching his nose.

"Yeah well, it's doing the job so back off Sonny Jim."

He chuckled before turning to look in the direction that Heather and Stiles went.

"What do you think they're doing?"

I turned my head to follow his line of vision.

"Scott, is Stiles a virgin?"

He gaped like a fish. "I-uh- I can't- say-um-"

"Take that as a yes." I replied. "If I know Heather, he's not going to be for much longer."

I stared into space.

"Whoa." Was all Scott got out.

"Indeed." I snorted into my drink.

Just then, his phone buzzed violently. Something about it must have been important because he turned to me distressed.

"I'm really sorry, I gotta go." He patted me on the shoulder, and turned to walk to the back door.

"That's cool- you were startin' to bring my mood down anyway." I laughed, holding up the bottle in a salute.

"It was really nice talking to you, though." He said.

"You too, Scotty boy." I declared, randomly, taking a long swig.

God, the alcohol must have finally set in.

I could hear him chuckle as the door closed.

Sighing slowly, I dangled my feet into the swimming pool, sipping my drink.

I hated parties. I hated socialising. I hated-

'God, I'm such an idiot!' The voice shocked me out of my skin.

My head shot up, looking round for the speaker and I was greeted by a familiar face across the pool sitting cross legged, his hands running through his hair violently.

I inspected the vicinity. Hardly anyone was out here- they were all inside, crowding around the drinks table.

Was he talking to me?

"OK, what did you do with Heather?" I said, a little too loudly. His head shot up and locked eyes with me. "Eat her?" I finished, smirking slightly at the double meaning.

"Don't ask." He made a sort of strangled noise, and put his head in his hands again.

A dude dressed as Ironman decided that now would be the perfect time to dive-bomb into the pool- splashing us both.

"Oh, come on man!" Stiles yelled, wiping his face with his sleeve.

"Yeah, everyone knows Ironman sucks compared to Batman!"

I heard an intake of breath to see that Stiles was grinning at me.

'Holy Crap.'

"What?" I slurred.

"You speak comic book?"

I tutted, and rolled my eyes, gesturing to my jeans and 'Batman' T-shirt. "Duh."

If it was possible, his smile got bigger.

I took a moment to remember that he still didn't know who I was.

"You're friend- Er Scott, left."

"What?!" he cried, "He left without me?! He was my ride home!"

I curled my bottom lip awkwardly.

Stiles gazed up at the sky. "That's it. I'm going to die alone."

"We all die alone." I cut in.

When he looked back at me, I continued. "Well, we do- if you think about it."

He sniffed and ran a hand over his face.

"Do you find me attractive?" He said, out of the blue.

I gaped at him.

"Why?"

"Just answer the question."

I looked at him again.

Properly, this time.

His chestnut brown eyes had always been too big for his face. And his fingers and legs were still long and rather… elegant. And those moles were still there. Every- single-one.

"Well, I don't wanna puke when I look at you- if that helps." I said, nonchantly.

He gave a half smile and looked down at his hands.

'Well, I guess that's a start.' I heard.

"Yeah, it is." I responding, swigging the bottle for the hundredth time that night.

He whipped his head up confusedly. "It is, what?"

My eyes narrowed. "It is a start…"

"The start of what?" he replied, brows still knitted together.

"You just said- Oh for god sake, never mind!"

He eyed me again suspiciously, before relaxing his brow and staring intently at me.

I tried to relieve whatever kind of 'moment' this was by gazing around the pool for what felt like the millionth time.

Something caught my eye though.

"Wait, is that Derek Hale?" I said, pointing across the crowd, to a moody, but incredibly good looking guy.

Stiles stood up immediately and sprung into action.

"Oh, God." He elongated the word 'god' as he whipped his head back round to me.

"We have got to hide." He rushed round to my side of the pool- grabbing my hand, forcing me to stand up.

"Wha-why? Dere-"

"Shh! No questions! Okay?" He put a finger to his lips, willing me to be quiet.

"Jesus, okay…" I replied, and allowed him to drag me to… well wherever the hell it was he was dragging me to.

Weaving in and out of our grinding peers, Stiles led me through the crowd until we reached a corridor.

"He's over there." I pointed to where Derek was leaning against the wall, glaring at him.

"Shit." He swore under his breath.

"Quick, I know where we can go."

It was my turn to pull him down the hall and into the nearby closet.

_Sooo many closets._

"Okay, why are we hiding from Derek Hale?" I said once we were inside.

"OK- so I may or may not have _accidently _keyed his Camaro."

"Stiles…"

"OK- So I keyed his Camaro."

"He could crush you, y'know- I've heard all about his family, and everything."

"Yeah, well- most of its right." I said folded his arms across his chest.

"Wait- you're friends with him?"

"Not friends."

"But, you know him?"

"Yes."

"Wow, I thought you loved to talk."

"Yeah- no- right now I'm a bit more preoccupied by that overgrown were- uh- weirdo, who's going to kick my ass."

The word slip did not go unnoticed, but I said nothing about it.

I don't know why it was then that I chose to realise where we were.

"We're in a closet." I stated.

"Wow, I did not know that. Do you predict the future too?" He said sarcastically.

He was a lot more comfortable around girls than I remembered. I still don't think he recognized me- even in this setting.

"Heather's closet."

"Yes, what about it?" he said distractedly,

"You're first kiss."

I had his attention now.

"I- wha- wait- George?" He said, recognition finally dawning on him.

"Bingo." I chuckled.

"God- I, I mean you look-"

"Old?" I cut in, laughing.

"No- no! God, no!"

It confused me how quickly Stiles could be a sarcastic, witty even, guy one minute and then turn into a fumbling idiot the next.

"I just- I just meant that, you look good. I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"It's fine." I said quickly, "You better stop talking before you give yourself a heart attack." I laughed.

Stiles clasped his lips together.

We were silent for long time.

"Don't suppose you wanna relive old times, do ya?" He said.

Sarcastic Stiles was back.

"You're being serious?" I replied, glancing through the crack.

"Well seeing as we're stuck in here for god knows how long- I'm a loser anyway, so what have I got to lose?" He asked.

"Didn't you just make out with Heather?" I asked warily.

"Well yeah- I mean, we went down there, and she asked me if I wanted to- you know, and I said that I did wanna… you know, and then I went to go and get a-" He paused for a moment, subconsciously glancing down at his pocket, "I left. And when I came back, she was gone." He finished.

"So you did kiss?" I asked, "Coz I don't wanna swap spit with my friends."

"They do it all the time on TV," He said, lower this time- and getting dangerously close to me.

"Porn does not count as TV, Stiles."

"It does if you watch enough of it."

I don't know what it was about this cupboard, but it brought out something in Stiles I'd probably like to see more often.

"I mean- we don't have to kiss." He said abruptly. "We could- we could do whatever you want," He gulped. "I-If you maybe wanted to."

I could almost laugh at his persistence. "I wouldn't protest." I said after a long enough pause.

I inhaled slowly, as he sauntered into my personal bubble.

"I mean- it's a closet, no one will know what we do in here." I muttered, his mouth literally a centimetre away from mine.

"No one." I repeated, closing my eyes-

'Stupid kid's gonna get his throat ripped out.' A deep angry voice ripped through my head.

I flinched and jerked away from Stiles- looking everywhere for the source of the voice.

"What?" Stiles said- stunned.

"Did you just-?"

The closet door was wrenched open, and we broke apart like we had just burnt each other.

"Out. Now." Derek pulled him out of the closet by the scruff of his neck.

"Oww- ow, OK, yeah- that's gonna leave a bruise." He muttered, "Bye, George-" He managed to get out before Derek practically threw him out the door.

I stared in shock.

Something wasn't right. I had heard something. Something that I physically couldn't have.

In the space of ten years, my encounters with Stiles Stilinski had managed to get weirder, and weirder.

I would probably never see him again, and I was perfectly okay with that.

This was just one weird, crazy night before the rest of our lives.

He would go on living his life, and I would go on living mine- without ever the two crossing.

Well, or so I thought.

* * *

_Ok, I know this is ridicuolously long! But I posted this on Archive of our Own to see what kind of response it got._

_But I've decided that I'd quite like to continue it on... so let me know!_

_Sorry again to you MMFD followers! If anyone wants to help me with inspiration- Please PM me!_

_-Laura_


	2. Chapter 2

_So I got some lovely reviews yesterday! I'm reading glad you guys are liking it! Heres Chapter two!_

* * *

Penny For Your Thoughts?

Chapter Two:

"Two Deaths Too Many"

It was a dreary Monday afternoon, and Miss Watkins was in the middle of explaining the delights of Geometry, when it happened.

"Georgia Harding-Montgomery?" She spoke, reading a note that was passed to her by a scared looking freshman.

I cringed at the use of my full name, it sounded like some private school twit's name.

"Er- yeah?"

"Sheriff Stilinski would like to speak with you outside."

The Sherriff?

Wait- Stilinski?

Holy-

"Miss Montgomery?" She urged.

"Oh- yeah." I said, sliding out of my seat and trying my best to ignore the silent muttering my fellow peers.

Once I had reached the hallway- I saw a defeated looking man, in his late forties, hands on hips- speaking with Danielle.

Who was… _crying_.

_Danielle._ Resident tough girl who would slap you sideways if you stepped out of line was…_crying._

I was barely over the fact that one of my closest friends was crying- when the man, who I'm assuming was the Sherriff beckoned me over with one long finger.

To my embarrassment, I tried to focus on the fact the police wanted to speak to me- and not the fact that Sheriff's fingers bore a striking resemblance to Stile's.

"Miss Montgomery?" He said in a low voice.

I gazed over at Danielle, who still had her head in her hands. "OK, what the hell's going on?"

He took a deep breath, as if to steady himself- and placed an unsteady hand on my shoulder.

"Your friend, Heather- she was found this morning."

I frowned, confused. "I didn't even know she was missing?" I almost laughed. "What was she doing? Shacking up with some dude I bet."

I smiled and looked over to Danielle, who had moved her hands from her face- eyes red-raw and faces stained with tears.

"She's dead, George." She said deadpan, as if testing out the foreign words on her tongue.

My head whipped back to the Sherriff, and searched his eyes for any sign of a joke- or a hint of a joke.

Instead, all I found was pity. "I'm so very sorry." He muttered.

What?

She wasn't dead- I had seen her not two nights ago!

My eyes began to fill to the brim, but I violently wiped them away. "Dead? How?" I asked, determined.

He sighed. "We found her tied to a tree." He peered at me, unsure if he should continue. I continued to stare. "Her- throat slit, a thin piece of wire used as a garrotte around her neck-"

Danielle burst into a fit of new tears, forcing the Sherriff to stop.

"I know this isn't really the time, and girls, I really wish I didn't have to do this- but I need to ask you both a few questions, as you and my son appear to be the only ones who saw her last-"

He continued talking, but all I could see was his lips moving, all I could feel was the nausea settling into my body.

Heather was dead.

* * *

After what felt like a blur of a day, the Sheriff finally let us out of the questioning room.

"Now if you girls need any help or support, Ms Morrell will be on hand at any time of the day." He said softly.

I gave him a weak smile, feeling bad for him and what his job entailed.

"Thank you, Sheriff." I whispered, and began to walk around the corner.

'The poor girl.'

The Sherriff's voice echoed through my mind, and I turned around instantly, only to see the Sherriff had returned back to his office.

I stood there. Dumbfounded.

"I'm going crazy." I blinked twice, and turned around- my body slamming into something soft, but surprisingly sturdy.

"Oft!- George?" he breathed, after having the wind knocked out of him.

"Stiles?" I returned.

I hadn't seen him since our last encounter in the closet, which was about three days ago.

"Yeah." He said, sighing. "I guess you're here about Heather, right?"

I looked at his face. I could see the left over stains from where the tears had been, his big brown eyes, downcast.

I nodded silently.

"I can't believe it." I whispered.

He shook his head.

I looked down the vast hallway, as if willing Heather to appear.

"Do you need a ride home?" He suddenly asked, out of the blue.

"Oh- er, no thanks- my Dad should be giving me one." I tried my best to smile, but it faltered at the last second.

"OK." He nodded before pointing in the direction of his Dad's office. "I gotta-"

"Yeah, no- it's- go ahead." I said, moving to walk away.

He paused at the door handle. "I'm glad you're okay." He said, much louder than he had been speaking previously.

"You too." I returned.

He clasped the handle and walked inside, shutting the door softly behind him.

I huffed slightly, and opened the door which led to the front steps of the Police station.

Perching on a step, I pulled out my phone.

"Hi, Dad." I spoke.

"Oh, Hi Sweetie." He said distractedly.

"Can you come and pick me up?" I said, expressionless.

"Er- right now?" I heard giggling in the background, and some 'Shh's'.

"No, in five years." I exclaimed, "Yes, now!"

"I-I can't hear you sweetie!" His voice was strained now, and I instantly knew what was going on.

"Okay, well once that whores done sucking you like a lollipop- maybe you'll remember you've got a daughter who's sitting outside a police station alone, hating your guts."

I slammed my finger down on the 'End Call' button and instantly regretted not taking Stiles offer.

I should have known. When have I ever been able to rely on my Dad before?

I thought about calling my Mother, but I knew how that would go. I wasn't in the mood for one of her 'chats' tonight.

So, I bit the dust- and started to walk home.

I knew it wasn't a particularly long journey, so I wasn't all that bothered about getting kidnapped or murdered.

Well, that was until- I heard it.

'No- no, please!'

The boy's voice was almost bloodcurdling, and yet there was not a person in sight.

A cold shiver ran down my spine.

'Please, no! No! No! No!' The voice was shrieking now, I couldn't concentrate on anything else.

"I don't want to die!" I gripped my hands to my head, as if it would somehow magically extinguish the boys cries.

But it didn't.

The screaming and crying continued- until I had no choice but to follow it.

Something was happening inside my head, and my body- as if I could feel the pure terror rolling off this poor soul.

'Stop! Please! I'm not the one you want!' It continued on.

Before I realised it I was running, street lamps melding together- my breath coming out in short spurts.

It was when I was pretty sure I was close, that I heard another voice.

But it wasn't in my head, it was difficult to explain- It was as if I was hearing the voice through the unknown boys head.

"Ah, see that's where you wrong." It said- distorted and eerie.

The boy whimpered.

"You're _exactly _what I want!" It cried, and a spine-tingling scream echoed throughout my head.

I got down onto my hands and knees, the scream still lingering behind my eyes.

And then, as quickly as it started- it stopped.

I covered my eyes, and uncovered them- testing to see whether it was a trick. Whether the sound would melt my brain again.

But it didn't.

It was then that I realised where I was.

I was outside the County swimming pool.

Arms crossed tight against my chest, I peered around the corner and saw the light reflecting on the pool.

"Hello?" I said, weak.

I don't know what I was expecting. Someone to say, 'Hello!' back?

As predicted, there was no response.

My boots thudded against the concrete as I walked closer to the pool, gazing at myself in the water.

God, I really needed to brush my hair.

The sound of dripping turning my attention away from my reflection.

You know those moments, where you wish you hadn't done something, but did anyway?

Yeah, this was one of those moments.

There, sitting in the lifeguard chair- as dead as a doorknob, was a boy.

I screamed and ran to the farthest wall, backing myself up against it- but never taking my eyes off the boy.

Blood was dripping down his arm, and off his fingers- onto the floor. That was all I could see. And that was all I was going to see. There was no way I was getting any closer than that.

Pulling out my phone and dialling the first nine, I was stopped short when I heard a car pull up.

A door being shut was following by a clicking of heels as a girl with a long, expensive coat entered into my line of vision.

She didn't seem to notice anything at first, her eyes glued to her phone screen.

But slowly, and surely- she looked up, and God, did I have to cover my ears.

Didn't even know humans could make that sound.

I was then reminded of the deceased boy's cries. I shuddered at the thought.

I watched as she pulled out her phone and started hysterically talking, I assumed it was the police, and so I put my phone into my pocket and walked slowly towards her.

Her features became clearer the closer I got- and I realised then, that I knew this girl.

"Lydia Martin?" I said, uneasily.

She sprang around and gasped, hand clutching her chest.

"Stay away from me!" She screamed.

"What are you talking about?" I said- hands bunched up in my hoodie.

"I know you did this! And you're going away for this!"

"Wha-!"

A big engine churned and ground to a halt near us, and I turned to look at the source of the noise.

'Oh god- Please be okay, please be okay.' A voice chanted in my head.

A familiar voice.

I saw his long legs through the light of his Jeep as he yelled, "Lydia! Are you okay?!"

"Yeah." She all but shrieked, "But he isn't! Because of her!" She said, pointing a manicured finger at me.

"I-" He then turned to me.

"George?!" He cried.

I reluctantly looked up to the poor boy again, and then back at Lydia.

"You think _I _did this?!" I exclaimed.

"Well why else would you be here? Taking a midnight stroll?" She spat back.

"Lydia!" Stiles scolded.

"Oh yeah? And what exactly are _you _doing here _princess_?"

She stopped at that.

"I-I-" Gazing to look at Stiles for a moment. "I don't remember."

"George?" Stiles observed me, evidently wanting some answers.

"I do." I confessed. "I was walking home. And I heard him. I heard him screaming."

"You did?" He uttered.

"Yes." I replied, unsure whether I should continue. "In my head."

Both their heads snapped to look at me.

"What did you say?" Stiles urged.

"I heard him crying, in my head." I repeated again.

"Oh, now you're just making this up." Lydia shifted her feet so her heels clicked against the concrete.

"Lydia! Just-" Stiles put out a finger as if to stop her before she rolled her eyes.

"I-I can't explain it right now." I said.

'Yes, because you're a lying bitch.' The voice wavered in my head- decidedly from Lydia.

"Call me a bitch, again." I bristled, eyes narrowing.

Her eyes widened- for she knew she hadn't said a word. Out loud.

"Yeah." I declared.

I looked back to Stiles, who was studying me with the most odd expression on his face. Somewhere between terror and excitement.

"I hate to break up this little love fest, but- oh yeah! There's still a dead body in the life guards chair."

Lydia's voice broke his trance, and he turned towards the boy, edging closer to get a good look.

He looked as if he had seen something, and turned back around to face me and Lydia.

"The police are on their way." Lydia breathed.

"You called the police before you called me?"

"I'm supposed to call you before the police?"

"YES!" Stiles exclaimed loudly.

She rolled her eyes again and turned to face the pool.

Stiles stared at her with a look of despair, and longing.

I remembered back in preschool, she hadn't even giving him a glance when he spoke to her- now he was the first person she'd call when she found a dead body? I wondered what had changed, but I knew for sure- by just the look he was giving her that his feelings hadn't.

And he looked like he had it _bad_.

* * *

When the police finally arrived, Stiles had jogged up to his Father and started flinging his arms in every direction, talking as if he was some crazed loon.

Lydia seemed to mellow a little, once the dead boy had been carted out of sight.

She still seemed to prickle when I was near though.

Sighing, I rubbed my eyes and gave back the shock blanket to the medical attendant.

Two deaths in one day was two deaths too many.

I climbed out of the ambulance, and proceeded to walk up to one of the female officers.

"Can I go now?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.

She checked her watch, and glimpsed down at me. "I know you've had a long day- so we'll have to have to speak with you tomorrow, for now- go home, rest." She beckoned for me to go.

As I turned to leave, an hand grabbed my bicep. "_Nooo_ way. I'm giving you a ride. We need to talk." His brown eyes bore into mine.

I nodded silently, practically aching to get away from this madness.

* * *

_Thanks guys!_

_Please review!_

_-Laura xx_


	3. Chapter 3

Penny For Your Thoughts?

Chapter Three:

"Too Much Information"

We sat in silence for what felt like forever.

I gazed toward his face, illuminated by the passing street lamps, but quickly looked away when I saw his eyes moving to catch mine.

After a while, he pulled up outside an unfamiliar house and put the hand break on.

His fingers danced over the steering wheel, drumming it distractedly - whilst he tried his best to collect himself.

"OK." He took a deep breath. "Explain."

I sighed. I didn't know how to even explain it to myself.

"I really don't know what you want me to say."

"Hows about we start at the part where you can _read minds_?" He said, folding his arms over his chest.

"What? Scared I'm reading yours right now?" I threw back, mirroring his position.

A look of slight panic crossed his face, and he quickly turned his attention out the window, as if willing his thoughts to go away.

I desperately wished that I was reading his mind right now.

But, if I was honest with myself, I didn't even know how it worked. I didn't know how to switch it on and off.

All I knew, is that I could hear someone speaking without moving their lips.

"I just- I need to know the truth, George." He muttered, turning back to me.

"Why? Why's it so important to you?"

He paused, thinking for a moment. "Because it just is, okay?" he huffed, "I need some answers."

"Look, I don't know okay?" I exclaimed, suddenly angry. "All I feel like right now is a loony who has absolutely _zero_ idea what's happening to her. You want answers? You want the truth? There it is!"

Before I knew it I had flung open the car door and leapt outside intending to walk the rest of the way.

'Good going, Stiles!' I heard enter my head as my feet hit the pavement.

"George!" I heard the door slam behind him. "Look- wait up!" Hurried footsteps followed me on the pavement.

"Hey- stop." He breathed, catching my arm and turning my round to face him.

"I'm sorry." He said, hand still clutching my wrist.

I exhaled, a ran a hand through my hair. "Yeah, me too."

He released my hand and let his hang at his sides, bouncing up and down awkwardly on the spot.

"This isn't my house." I observed.

"Er- yeah, sorry- it's mine." He gnawed his bottom lip as he gazed towards the building.

I raised an eyebrow expectedly at him.

"Oh! No!" He held out his hands as if to stop any thought that was about to enter my mind.

"I just thought- Look, my Dad's still at the station."

"Yeah- you're not really doing anything to sell this to me, Stiles." I held a laugh, watching his face turn crimson.

"God." He cursed, placing his hand on his eyes. "I just meant," He started again, "We'd have time to talk- about this, _thing_ if you wanted to." He gestured to me when he said the word 'thing' and finished with his eyes on his shoes.

"Alright." I agreed after a while, and let Stiles lead the way.

Once inside he flicked the hallway light on, turning awkwardly to face me with his hands in his pockets.

"Erm, so- this is it." He said, rather discouraged.

I gazed around. The outdated wallpaper was peeling away, the furniture looked to be at least twenty years old aside from a large flat screen TV which crowded the living room. It wasn't the Ritz, but I realized now that it was completely and utterly Stiles.

On the table nearest the door sat a picture frame, depicted the smiling faces of the Sheriff, and hearty looking woman, and what looked to be a toddler Stiles.

"Is this your Mom?" I asked, and immediately regretted it once I saw his face fall slightly.

"Yeah, that's Mom." His eyes sparkled looking at the photo- as if he were drifting off to some far-off memory.

As quickly as the look came, it disappeared- and Stiles was back. Any imbecile could tell that his Mother was not a conversation he was willing to have tonight.

"You want a drink or something?" He clapped his hands together as if to add finality to the question.

"Er- no thanks."

"O-K." He elongated the word, rocking back and forth on his heels- his eyes darting to and fro.

"Listen, I'm sorry it's not-" He extended his arms to gesture to the place.

"Stiles." I stopped, "It's _fine_. Stop worrying!"

He let out an almost inaudible release of breath. "Right. Worrying- ceased." He gave a quick salut to which I responded with a smile.

"So, are we going up to your bedroom?" I asked after a few moments.

His eyes widened and gave one long blink. "I can honestly say- that I have never had a girl say that to me before." He cracked a goofy smile that reminded me of the fourteen year old Stiles.

I lightly smacked his shoulder and rolled my eyes. "Just lead the way doofus."

"Yes m'am." He replied, and proceeded to run up the stairs, taking two at a time with his long legs.

Once we got outside his door, he opened it and then closed it suddenly.

"What?" I asked alarmed.

He clasped the door handle firmly and gave a tight smile. "Could you just wait out here for _one _minute?"

I snorted. "Are you serious?"

"Generally." He put his arm up against the door frame, leaning against it tentatively. "Look, _please_? I just need to straighten a few things up." He practically begged.

Sighing, I threw my hands up and back away from the door, leaning against the banister.

"Thank you, thank you." He whisper chanted, and slid round the door fast enough so that I couldn't see inside his room.

What was the big secret? Porn stash? Makeup? Dirty underwear?

I decided then with a smile that I didn't think I wanted to know.

I heard a clatter and a shuffle. "Er, Stiles?" I laughed.

"Just a second!"

I took the time to look at the pictures that hung on the walls, all including his Mother.

One particular photo caught my eye. Stiles stood at the kitchen table- flour and what looked like strawberry jam was splotched all over his face, holding up some cakes- his Mother laughing at him with the crinkle of her laughter lines.

An immense sadness overtook me. Here I was, complaining that my Father didn't give a shit about me- when Stiles' Mother wasn't even alive anymore.

I must have been staring at it for some time because I hardly realised that the tall boy was standing behind me until he spoke.

"Hey, you keep staring at photos of me like that and I'm just gonna go ahead and assume that you've got a crush on me." But his voice didn't sound as humorous as it usually did.

I breathed out a small laugh and turned back towards him.

"Sorted?" I gestured to his bedroom, eager to not change the subject.

"Yeah, it's- it's all yours." When I gave him a odd look, he repaired. "I mean! Just- go in." He gestured to the door, hand slapped across his forehead.

I gazed around slowly- and was surprised to see that the room was incredibly clean.

"What exactly did you need to clean up?" I asked, sitting on his bed.

He wrung his hands, before folding them. "Psh. Nothing."

I raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

There was a moment of silence after his plonked himself down on his desk chair, spinning around awkwardly- hands clasped in his lap.

"So… Lydia Martin, hey?" I drummed my fingers on my knees.

Stiles spluttered and flailed his arms a bit as he spun in the desk chair to face me. "I-What?"

I gave him a pointed look. "Don't play dumb. Because we both know you're far from it," I gazed up to one of his posters depicted a knight holding the head of what can only be described as a troll, "no matter how many mythical creatures you slay."

I had to hide my chortle when I saw him go red in the face.

I turned and ran my fingers over his shelf, examining the various books he had there.

"Just- you know, for the record, I'm not even a member of Runescape anymore- so I mean, if you think that I'm-"

His chattering carried on but I blocked it out when I saw an abundance of _women's _jewellery on one of the shelves.

"Playing cross dresser are we?" I spoke, dangling a rather ugly looking necklace off my finger.

"Of course. Have you _seen _this face- I've got supermodel cheekbones." He gave a quick smile when I chuckled loudly,

"Nah, that's just some stuff I bought last year."

"Hah, do I win a prize if I guess who? Because I'm in the mood for a prize."

Stiles rolled his eyes and clasped his hands together in his lap again, meeting anything but my gaze.

"It's not been _that_ long you know." He stated dully, scratching the side of his face.

"Don't know what you're idea of a 'long time' is, but I'd say ten years was pretty drastic…"

"Hey, look- I thought we were here to talk about your…_ thing_ and not my lovelife."

"Or lack thereof…" I amended.

"Ah!" He exclaimed, holding his heart, "I'm wounded!"

"You definitely play the 'knight in shining armour' well." I said, remembering how quickly he had come when Lydia called. "You do that all for Lydia's benefit?"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, my friend." He slapped his knee and spun lightly on his chair.

Just then his phone rang loudly on his desk- vibrating with it.

I turned back around to face him, leaning on the desk with my arms folded tightly.

"Sorry, it's my dad." He apologized, before taking the call.

"Hey Dad."

I saw his face drop. "Where?" He asked gravely.

There was a moment of silence whilst Stiles listened to the Sheriff talk.

"One's an incident, Two's coincidence, Three's a pattern." He muttered.

"OK," he replied to whatever his Father had asked him. "And Dad? Be careful alright?"

And with that, he hung up the phone and ran a hand over his face.

"There's been another murder." He finally said after a while.

"Who?" I asked.

"A girl. Not too much older than us."

I shook my head and exhaled. "Where?"

"Down over by the School- in the woods near Bridgewater Road."

I gaped. "I _live _on Bridgewater Road. God, what is happening?" I asked, baffled. "Two deaths in one day?"

"I don't know what's going on." He responded, spinning in his chair as if to concentrate. "But I need you to tell me _everything_." And I instantly knew he was talking about my new found, 'gift'.

I suddenly realised something I hadn't before. "Why aren't you freaking out?"

He abruptly stopped spinning.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, for all intents and purposes I've just told you that I'm some sort of-" I cut on quickly, not sure if I fully believed it enough to actually say it out loud. "That I've got this… _thing_, and you're not running around screaming like a headless chicken."

I narrowed my eyes. "Why?"

He opened and closed his mouth several times, gaping like a fish and then deflated. "Let's just say stranger things have happened."

"_Stranger?_ Stranger than this?" It was now my turn to gape.

"Unluckily enough for me, yes." He confirmed, getting up and walking to the window absentmindedly.

He gazed down onto the street below, before pulling back the curtain and turning to face me.

"Can you hear what I'm thinking right now?" He said- his voice suddenly raspy and deep.

I almost had to look again to verify that the sentence had come from _his _mouth.

Stiles Stilinski never failed to surprise me with his vast array of faces. Most of the time- he was Sarcastic, goofy, and a little spastic- but sometimes, like these, he was someone else entirely. Sad, strong, _alluring_.

"No." I said, finally. "I can't."

"Have you tried?" He continued.

"Why- you got something you wanna tell me with your mind?" I joked, but he didn't laugh, bouncing up and down on heels again.

"George- c'mon, can't you at least try?"

"I don't even know how it works!"

"Just, try focusing on me- maybe if you get a clear enough picture, I don't know, the thoughts will just leak through?" He offered.

"Why do you even care Stiles?" I said slowly. "Yes- it's not exactly something that happens every day- but why are you so interested in knowing all about it? Whatever _it _is."

He adjusted his posture, straightening his back and gnawing on his bottom lip before bringing his eyes up to meet mine.

"Because if this is true- whatever the hell it is," He paused, "You'll be able to help us."

"Help who?" I asked confusedly.

"Us." He took a gentle breath, as if deciding whether or not to continue his sentence. "The pack."

"The _what_?"

"OK- Oh _god._" He breathed, steadying himself.

He walked forward slowly and put his hands on both of my shoulders squeezing them slightly. Closing his eyes he breathed and then spoke. "You know how I told you- _stranger_ _things have happened?_"

I nodded fervently, mortally intrigued.

"Yes."

He sighed again and began pacing. "Are you sure about this? Because once I tell you- trust me, your life is probably going to be destined to a world of pain and inveitable self loathing. I know mine is!" He exclaimed, babbling.

"Stiles!" I cried. He stopped and blinked. "What- is- going- on?"

He scrunched up his face, carding his fingers through his hair.

"Well, let's just say a pack of werewolves running around Beacon Hills pretty much sums up all the strange in this town." He said finally- opening one eye as if to see my reaction.

I didn't move an inch.

Is it possible that Stiles could have lost it?

Instead of responding, I felt a bubble of uncontrollable laughter fighting its way up to the surface.

But this didn't look like a joke- in fact, Stiles was more serious than ever, his eyes bored into my head like it was on fire.

"Well say something!" He cried.

I shook my head, blinking rapidly. "Are they the ones killing people?"

He shook his head desperately. "No- no! They're the good guys. Well, I mean Derek Hale doesn't really constitute 'good' but he's on the same side. And Scott! Scott's definitely a good guy." He rambled.

"Derek Hale?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Scott." I stated.

He nodded again.

"Scott's a werewolf?"

He opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off. "In a pack with… Derek Hale?"

"I know how weird it sounds- but honestly trust me, you'll get used to it-"

"I need to sit down." I breathed, as I collapsed onto this bed.

After a few minutes of heavy breathing- it slowed.

"You good?" He said worriedly looming over me.

"Yeah- I'm- Yeah."

"Look, I don't want to put too much information on you right now- but there may be someone who can help you get a hold of this thing." He sat down next to me and looked at me as if he were a puppy dog.

"What are you talking about?" I heaved.

"Your… y'know…" He trailed and then leant in close. "Power."

"I'm not some superhero, Stiles!"

"I know, I know! But- look, if he can help you, what exactly have you got to lose?"

I let out a long sigh and buried my face in the crook of my arm. "When you say help- you mean like- work it?"

"Yeah."

I was silent. I didn't even know if I wanted to work it. I had a hard time believing it even existed- let alone knowing how to use it.

"This sucks." I said after a while.

"Yeah? Well, try running around Beacon Hills with a bunch of homicidal alpha's trying to kill you and your best friend." He rambled, picking up his phone and tapping quickly with long pale fingers.

"Here- gimme your cell." He held his hand out.

"Why?" I suddenly recoiled clasping my phone to my chest.

He rolled his eyes with a quirk of his mouth. "I'm not gonna rob you. Or have you forgotten my Dad's the Sherriff?"

I visibly relaxed.

"I just want to take your number." He declared, quickly stuttering when he saw my eyebrows raised, "You know- for if you need to call me."

"That's generally the premise of exchanging numbers." I drawled, sarcastically- handing over my phone in one swift movement.

After he had finished typing in the number, he handed it back to me and stood awkwardly, hands on his hips.

"So- will you come?" He uttered.

"How do you know he's- y'know, trustworthy?" I asked.

"Trust me- I just- know."

I stared up at his ceiling, this all becoming far too much for one day. "Who is it?" I breathed.

"His name's Dr Deaton."

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed!_

_PLEASE don't forget to review for more chapters!_

_-Laura xx_


	4. Chapter 4

Penny For Your Thoughts?

Chapter Four:

"Two To Three Hours"

Stiles pulled up the car and I gazed out the window to find that we were in the car park of Beacon Hills Animal Clinic.

"He's a vet?" I thought back to the… werewolves. "Figures."

"Well, actually he's kinda some sorta Druid… guy." He swallowed, and moved his forwards and backwards as if he were a chicken.

I sighed. "I'm not even gonna ask." I unclipped my seatbelt and pulled the car handle.

"Wise choice."

Once we got inside, Stiles placed his hand on the small of my back.

I turned to him in surprise and he instantly removed his hand- threw me a sheepish smile and muttered, "Sorry. When Derek's around, I get a little uneasy for everyone's safety." I think he was only half joking.

We walked through the back- Stiles leading the way.

Lydia, Derek, Scott, Isaac, Alison and Boyd were all huddled over a table.

"Boyd?!" I suddenly exclaimed. I remembered Danielle talking about her crush on him back in fifth.

"Don't tell me you're a werewolf too…" I covered my face with my hands.

Everybody whipped their heads towards me and then to a nervous chuckling Stiles.

"Hey, guys." He said weakly. "Guess what?" He held his arms out as if he was about to reveal a big surprise.

Surprise was right.

"Tell me you haven't." Derek said threateningly, spotting claw like fingernails digging into the table.

"I… haven't?" Stiles tried.

"I'm gonna kill him!" Derek tried to leap over the desk- but was stopped by Scott.

"Look man! Chill! This is Stiles- he wouldn't just randomly tell anyone because he feels like it! Hear him out!"

I had forgotten how much I liked Scott. "Hey George." He threw me a quick smile.

"Wait you know her?" Isaac said.

"Yeah- we've met before." He smiled.

"Well, this is a lovely reunion, but Stiles you've got exactly five seconds to tell me what's going one before I rip your throat out… with my teeth."

"Yeah, what is she doing here?" Lydia asked.

"You know why she's here Lydia." Stiles responded gravely, and Lydia pursed her lips.

"Well none of us do!" Boyd said.

"OK- everybody calm." A soothing voice called. A black man appeared in the doorway.

"Look, Dr Deaton- can you please just tell us what's going on?" Alison finally spoke.

"I can indeed." He moved closer to the light of the table, placing both hands down on it.

"George, here-" He gestured to me, "Is a telepath."

"What?" Derek burst.

"It means she can read minds, genius." Stiles threw at him.

"I know what it-" Derek spat, before Deaton cut him off with his hand. He turned to me slowly.

"George, your type of power is driven by emotion." Dr Deaton said. "There is only one known substance that I've ever known to cause this kind of power in humans."

Scott stared at Deaton urgently. "What is it?"

"It's more of a concoction." He responded, moving over to one of his cabinets and pulling out two metal bottles that reminded me of a cocktail shaker.

He put a beaker in front of us and looked back up to speak. "It takes a certain kind of person for this effect to take place." He gestured to me. "I've only seen it happen twice. The rest of the time…"

"They died." Stiles finished, and Deaton nodded sombrely.

"Well how did it happen? What caused it?" I questioned, gazing at the bottles.

"It's very simple." He said, pouring water into the beaker, and then unscrewing the cap to one of the bottles- and pulling out a small flower.

"Mountain Ash?" Derek exclaimed as Deaton dropped the small flower into the water- causing it to dissolve immediately.

Deaton nodded. "A mixture of Mountain Ash," He unscrewed the other cap and poured out a grey powder, "And Wolfsbane."

I was met with small shocked noises and suddenly felt extremely self conscious when all eyes focussed on me.

I looked back to the concoction, and saw that the liquid had turned black.

Something sparked in my brain.

The drink. Heathers drink.

"_What is that?" _

"_I dunno some kinda rum."_

"Someone spiked Heathers drink at the party- Scott you remember the one I was drinking?"

Recollection dawned on Scott's face. "I remember. It stank!" He gazed at the Wolfsbane. "Now we know why."

"Oh god." I put my hands over my face- hoping this was some sort of sick twisted dream.

"There's no need to panic, George." Deatons voice rang in my ears.

"I'm kind of past that." I said, finally removing my hands for my face to see that even Lydia was giving me a sympathetic look.

"It's okay, George." I heard Stiles' voice say. "We've all got your back."

"I'll train you." Deaton said firmly. "Teach you how to harness your emotions to hear what others are thinking. Planning."

"But- oh god, I've still got Chemistry homework to do- and I can't fail _another _test, my Mom will-"

"I can take care of that for you." Lydia stated. "It's probably nothing I haven't seen before." She waved her hand as is to dismiss the upcoming protest.

"Fabulous." Deaton said. "We'll start immediately."

"Immediately?"

"Yes." He replied, picking up the bottles.

"How's right now for you?"

I gazed around the table.

They were all looking at me expectantly. God, I hated it when people did that.

"And what good will it do? When I learn how to control it?" I asked Deaton.

He turned. "Well, I believe it will save lives."

There was no thought needed then.

I took a deep breath. "Just tell me what I have to do."

* * *

"Just relax, George." Deaton placed his hands flat on the table.

"First of all, we need a target."

"A target?" I asked, sitting down.

Everyone had decided that they had wanted to stay and watch whatever it was Deaton was about to lay upon me. I felt tiny when I sat down, compared to the standing group around me.

"Yes, you need someone's mind to infiltrate."

He gazed around looking at the group of not so willing participants.

"What exactly will she be able to see, once she's in our minds?" Issac piped up.

"If it goes correctly," Deaton clasped his hands on the table. "Everything."

He was met by an uneasy silence. "Uh- huh." Issac replied. "No thank you. Honestly- what's in my head- you won't wanna see it."

I nodded understandingly.

"Anyone else?" Deaton asked.

I saw Stiles shuffle awkwardly on one leg.

To be perfectly honest, I wasn't exactly surprised at the turn out. I wouldn't exactly want someone poking around my head- let alone knowing everything about me once they'd done it.

A sigh filled the room. "God Dammit, I'll do it."

Everyone turned to the source of the voice.

It was Scott.

"Excellent." Deaton said, walking over to one of his cabinets again. "Now Scott before we do this- it's important you know everything. What to expect. " He looked at me. "George isn't very strong at the moment, but as time goes on- she will be. In order for her to get inside your head successfully this time, you'll have to drink this."

He handed Scott a small bottle containing a blue gleaming liquid.

"What is it?" Scott question.

"I found in my youth that if you soaked Moonstone in Wolfsbane for over twenty four hours- the effects would replicate a sort of intoxication to werewolves." He folded his arms. "Because the two substances are so parallel- I'm confident this will work."

"So in short, you're getting Scott drunk?" Stiles laughed. "Man! I've been trying to do that all year!"

"The drug won't take effect straight away- but yes, that is basically the premise." Deaton smiled slightly.

"How drunk…?" Scott questioned.

Deaton looked rather sheepish. "It's different for every person. It may not affect you- but it may affect Boyd here strongly. It's impossible to tell."

Scott sighed a bit, seemingly unnerved- but raised the bottle to his lips nonetheless- downing the now sparkling liquid and then took his place at the table facing me.

"And what about me?" I asked, finally.

"You just need to relax like I keep telling you. Now, close your eyes."

I inhaled deeply and looked over at Stiles. He gave me a reassuring smile with a small fist pump.

Reluctantly, I closed my eyes.

All I could see was black. "Now think of Scott's face. His voice. Everything you can remember about him."

I waited. It occurred to me that I didn't know Scott that well- but I knew enough to go on.

Slowly- but surely, the blackness swirled into a picture of colour, I had to open my eyes to stop the brightness.

"Oh my god, what's happening to her!" I heard Stiles cry.

"No Stiles! This is all supposed to happen I assure you!"

"Now- Scott, listen to me very carefully. We're going to do this three times- and then stop. I can see George waning already."

I couldn't hear anything after that. But I couldn't speak. I couldn't see anything apart from the colours- I watched them swirling round and round again until I heard it.

'G-George?' It called, weak but still there.

"George." It said again, a little stronger.

'George, It's Scott. Can you hear me?'

I tried to nod, but it was as if I was frozen.

"Now George," I heard so closely, it had to have been whispered into my ear. "I want you to call out to Scott- but only in your head. As loud as you can!"

I didn't need asking twice. 'Scott!'

No answer.

"I can't hear her!" Scott said out loud.

"Try again, George."

'Scott!' I called a little louder this time. 'Scott! Tell me you can hear me- coz if I'm really not going crazy now, I'm definitely going to be crazy if you don't respond to me.'

I could somehow sense that he was chuckling through my mind. 'I can here you. Holy crap- I can't believe this worked.'

I couldn't believe it either.

I was suddenly very aware that the floating shapes had turned back to black and that I myself was succumbing to the darkness.

"George!" I heard a shout before the darkness took over me.

* * *

"Hey, she's waking up." A voice said.

"Jesus, that was some fall." Another replied.

"George?"

My eyes fluttered open.

Standing over me, was everyone. Stiles bent down so close that I could see the pattern of moles that ran down his face and neck.

"Welcome back." He smirked.

"Hi." I stated, sitting up and wiping my bleary eyes.

When I pulled my hand back from my face though, I panicked.

It was blood.

"Holy shit, I'm bleeding!" I yelped.

"Not to worry." Deaton pushed through the crowd to help me up. "This is common at the beginning. It will pass."

He passed me a tissue as I sat back down firmly on the chair- and dabbed at my nose.

"For the love of God, you're as useless at cleaning yourself up as my Dad." Stiles sighed. "Here." He took the tissue from me and started to dab at the liquid.

"Hold the bridge of your nose." He ordered.

I could feel his warm breath on my face, and I had to avert my eyes so as to not end up trailing the moles on his cheeks.

If I wasn't so mortified at the fact that everyone was staring at us with either knowing smirks or wide eyes- I would have thought the gesture cute.

My thinking was short lived though, as a loud beep came from Lydia's handbag. She pulled out her phone just when my own phone beeped, along with Stiles', Scott's and Alison's. I assumed Boyd, Derek and Isaac didn't have phones.

"East woods, nine o clock." Lydia read out loud.

Stiles placed the tissue on the table and dug out his own phone. "Mine says the same thing." He showed the group.

"Me too." Scott and Alison said.

I pulled out my own phone whilst trying to hang on to my nose. Sure enough there read- 'EAST WOODS. NINE O CLOCK.'

"What do you think it means?" Derek said, deadly serious.

I resisted the urge to snort for fear of the blood spurting out. Luckily, Stiles snorted for me. "Hmm, I don't know about you- but I think it means we have to go to East Woods at nine o clock. Just putting it out there." He said sarcastically- to which Derek gave him death glare.

Lydia looked at her watch. "Well it's eight thirty now. We better get moving."

"Hang on!" I said, my voice nasally. "Where's Scott?"

Everybody turned and gazed around the room. Scott was nowhere to be seen.

That was until we heard a crash and a "Woohoo!" outside.

The others started to walk outside, whilst I walked up to the mirror on the wall and gazed at my nose.

"Everything okay?" I turned, and saw none other than Lydia standing in the doorway.

"Er- yeah, everything's fine. Thanks." I gave a half smile.

She sighed, obviously not wanting to do what she was about to do. "I'm sorry." She said.

"Er-"

I hadn't finished my sentence when she continued on. "I have trust issues okay? And I may have, kind of, sort of, possibly got you wrong. So there." She folded her arms over herself and looked rather stubborn.

"Thanks, Lydia." I said, chuckling.

She nodded uneasily before smiling.

Boyd burst into the room. "Guys, you gotta see this."

We looked at each other and practically sprinted outstide.

Scott was standing on the hood of Stiles' Jeep singing 'I'm a Barbie girl'.

"Scott! Get off my baby! Bad Scott! Bad wolf!" Stiles was shouting whilst running around the Jeep trying to catch him.

That was it. I doubled over and began to laugh.

Stiles turned towards me, hands still outstretched from trying to catch Scott.

"Oh, you think this is funny?" He said, but I could see a glimmer of humour in his eye.

"N-n-no." I stuttered, wiping a tear from my eye. "Not at all."

"Let's just get him down." Derek said, jumping atop the roof and grabbing Scott, forcing him into the car.

Deaton walked over to the group. "Watch him. He'll be out of sorts for about two to three hours."

"Two to three hours?!" Stiles exclaimed. "Holy Mother of God."

* * *

After Deaton bid us farewell and headed back into the clinic, we all set about getting in our cars.

Lydia, Alison, rode together- whilst Derek rode with Boyd and Isaac. Which left me, Stiles and the Barbie girl.

"You're pretty." Scott slurred, sticking his hands into the front seat to run his hands through my hair.

"Um, thanks Scott." I snorted.

"Hey, keep your hands to yourself there wouldya buddy?" Stiles said, eyes fixated on the road.

"Don't get jealous, you're still my number one." Scott garbled.

"I'm touched." Stiles replied.

I give a quick look at Stiles, whose face was stony as he continued to drive down the highway. After a while we made it to East Woods and was about to step out of the car, when Scott jumped over me, out the door and bowed lowly, his hand outstretched to help me out of the car.

"Thanks, Scott." I laughed.

"You're welcome milady." He gave me a bright grin, and I wondered what the hell that blue shit had done to him.

"Hey, look Scott! It's Alison." Stiles pointed out stoically as we reached the clearing where the others stood.

I wondered what had suddenly got Stiles so riled up when my phone rang. It was Danielle.

"Hey." I said, remembering her tears in the hallway.

"Hey." She responded. "I just- are you going to that woods party tonight?"

So that's what it was. I suddenly felt awful.

Here I was standing with a bunch of people ready to go to this so called party- when Danielle was probably sitting at home thinking about Heather.

I was a terrible friend.

"Why? Do you wanna go?"

"I thought about it. But I can't George. I can't."

"Yeah, okay." I confirmed, not knowing what else to say.

"I don't want to sit here and keep playing it over in my mind. But I can't go out there with these people, and pretend like everything's okay." She said in such a small voice, I wasn't sure I had even heard it.

"I know." I almost whispered back. "I promise I'll see you soon."

I shoved the phone back into my pocket and turned around to face the group.

"It's a party." I announced, after catching my breath back- and forcing the tears I felt slip to the surface back.

"A party!" Lydia clapped her hands together excitedly. "Just what I need." And before anyone knew it- we were all stomping through the woods, following the source of the noise.

There in the middle of the woods, were crowds of people congregating round a large fire. The warm summers air made me start to sweat, and so I took off my jacket and threw it on a log some people were using as benches.

"Okay. Where's the alcohol?" An unfamiliar voice said.

Turning around I saw a girl with long brown hair, and deep set eyes.

"Cora." Stiles said, surprised.

"Hey Stiles." She smiled.

"What are you doing here?" Derek asked.

"What, can't handle having your sister around at a party?"

She was Derek's sister? Jesus, I thought that broody demeanour looked familiar.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm gonna go and get a drink, Stiles you coming?"

"Er- I – sure, yeah." He muttered, and trailed after her.

I watched him go, and suddenly- I was the one who needed a drink.

I sat across the fire from a giggling Cora, obviously laughing at one of Stiles' never-ending jokes as his long arms flapped in the air- recounting some crazy story no doubt.

My head was getting hazier and hazier by the minute, Lydia having found us some Rum by flirting with one of the guys there.

I was about to pour myself another cup when Scott grabbed hold of my arm and pulled me past the happy couple, to which they both gazed up at Scott- who was leading me far into the trees.

"Scott!" I said, glancing behind me.

"Hey!" Stiles called. "Where you guys going?"

'I wish I knew.' I wanted to say- but I when I saw Cora's hand resting on his leg, a sudden vindictiveness overtook me, and I continued into the woods with Scott without so much of a reply.

When we were far enough away, I looked at Scott.

"Scott, what is this?"

His face shone in the moonlight. "I'm not sure." He replied, looking rather worried, he reminded me of a sober Scott- the one from Heathers house.

"Scott- what are you-"

I was cut off by Scott's lips colliding with mine.

I was frozen. In shock. I even thought about fighting him off for a second, but after a while- I realised I didn't want to.

It's not as if I had anything to lose, I had no attachments- no boyfriend, nothing. Selfish, I know- but true nonetheless.

I reached up around his neck and pulled him closer into me, deepening the kiss.

Then, with superhuman speed, he hitched my legs up round his waist and slammed my back into a nearby tree.

I parted our lips to breath.

"Scott…" I sighed. "Scott, I think we should sto-"

But he just cut me off with his lips once again, moving them down my neck- sucking on my collarbone.

'Holy Shit…' I thought, rather loudly.

'I know right?' I was greeted by Scott's voice, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"How did you do that?!" I cried.

He sauntered back to me and clasped his hands around my back once again.

'Like this.' His voice filled up my head yet again.

He gave a slow, meaningful peck on my lips- lingered, and then place another on my cheek, then another, and another and another-

A throat clearing stopped me in my tracks. Scott stopped kissing my neck- but firmly kept hold of my waist.

Through the jagged edges of my drunken state, I could make out the shape enough to know who it was.

I'd know that shape anywhere.

"Everyone's getting ready to leave. Thought I'd better come and tell you- that is, y'know- if you're not too busy."

It was Stiles.

And I was mortified.

He turned around pointedly, his eyes full of something I could not decipher- and marched back through the trees.

"You're welcome." Scott tried to seductively whisper in my ear, before collapsing with a thunk to the ground.

Fantastic.

* * *

_What did you think?_

_Review please :)_

_-Laura_


End file.
